


the flash out my eyes

by ilgaksu



Category: Persona 3, Persona Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Alternate Universe - No Powers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 13:50:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7054381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilgaksu/pseuds/ilgaksu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So he’s hot. And he bought some protein.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	the flash out my eyes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [noodlebowlblues](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=noodlebowlblues).



Aki meets the love of his life on a Monday morning. Of course he does, Shinjiro thinks, half-listening to Aki and half-monitoring his coffee. He’s itching to drink it, but he isn’t about adding a burnt mouth to a list of his sins, so he waits, cradling the styrofoam gently between his hands. Aki, in his green apron and with a ready smile, must be making a killing today, Shinjiro thinks: every other human being is busy being quietly miserable, like they should be on a Monday. But not Aki. 

“And he bought like, a week’s lot in one sitting!” Aki says, “What a guy!” 

“Uh-huh,” Shinjiro says, switching his coffee to one hand so he can absently chew at one cuticle.  His back is screaming already; fuck the corporation for not giving their baristas breathing space, to be honest. “So he’s hot. And he bought some protein.”

Aki rounds on him, eyes flashing. Shinjiro doesn’t shrink back, because Shinjiro is not going to be intimidated by someone he remembers getting stuck climbing a fence and crying, never mind Aki’s trainer says his first prize fight is going to be  _ something else _ . So Shinjiro doesn’t shrink back, but it’s a close call. 

“Not just any protein, Shinji,” Aki snaps, “He bought the same brand I switched to last month.”

“So fancy protein,” Shinjiro says, unimpressed. Aki rolls his eyes and inhales the rest of his burger. “Jesus, you do eat some crap, Aki. Just let me make your fucking lunch.”

“I thought you were never cooking for me again,” Aki says, “I thought you were gonna let me starve.” 

“You fucked up my save file,” Shinjiro says, standing up and gulping down the last of the coffee before throwing it into the trash and getting out his lighter. He ignores Aki’s _ it was an accident, Shinji.  _ Excuses. Shinjiro had to start that bullshit game from the beginning because of him. “So yeah,” he adds, lighting up and taking a drag, “I was considering it. But I need your half of the rent.”

In front of them, the entrance to Iwatodai’s new shopping centre looms large and pristine, a few pigeons pecking at the pavement. 

“You know,” Aki says, “Imagine the fallout: Gekkoukan’s resident wannabe drug dealer plays visnovs. Your rep would never recover.”

“It’s all over anyway,” Shinjiro says, “Given that everyone knows I hang out with unconscionable fucking  _ nerds. _ ” Aki punches him in the shoulder. “Fuck, Aki, physical version of an inside voice? Could you?” 

“No. What would be the point? Anyway, so this guy.”

“Hot protein guy,” Shinjiro deadpans. Either the sarcasm passes Aki by or he’s just ignoring Shinjiro. 

“Yeah, well. I’ve been thinking of updating my regime, you know? Maybe he’d be interested. Maybe I should share some of mine,” Aki is chattering, eyes bright and animated. He’s gesturing so much Shinjiro’s cigarette would be in danger of causing an Incident if it was anywhere else but clasped in Shinjiro’s hands like a lifeline, which, yeah, fuck morning people. Fuck day people generally. 

“Yeah, reciprocation’s usually appreciated, Aki,” Shinjiro drawls, and when Aki gets it, his lungs catch on an inwards breath; Shinjiro watches with satisfaction as Aki stammers, his skin flushing neon. This shit, Shinjiro thinks fondly, watching Aki open and close his mouth silently, like a goldfish, this shit is  _ never _ going to get old. Baiting Aki is approaching a fucking Olympic-level bloodsport by this point. 

“Well, what would you do?” he finally snaps, a good thirty seconds of gaping later, and Shinjiiro breathes out smoke and looks up, considering. 

“Take him out, take him home,” Shinjiro says, “And when he asks, you say you drink coffee, ‘cause that’s not what they’re asking ever, Aki, I can’t fucking believe you don’t pick up on that. And then -”  

He makes a gesture. 

“ _Shinjiro_ ,” Aki hisses, scandalised. Shinjiro rolls his eyes, glances at the time on his phone, and stubs out his cigarette. 

“Come on,” he says, “Back to capitalism we go. You’re gonna be late for work.” 

*

Minato hates running, he decides, approximately twenty minutes into his first morning run. He’s never liked it anyway and he especially doesn’t like it now. He rounds the next corner of the park and flops onto the grass, chest heaving. The sky keeps wobbling with each blink. 

“Hey, man,” Junpei says, “You dead?” 

He prods Minato with the toe of his running shoes, and Minato hisses ineffectually at him and rolls away.  

“No. I’m dying.” he says, “Present tense. And it’s all your fault.” 

“Well, don’t fucking haunt me, my guy,” Junpei says, sitting down next to him and putting his head between his own legs. “I’m not long for this world either. This was a piss-poor idea.”

“This,” Minato reminds him icily, “was your idea.” The sky is wobbling less now, so he rolls to his feet, and kicks Junpei in the ribs out of spite. “As in, not mine. Take responsibility, please.”

“Go on without me,” Junpei tries. His face is red, his shoulders and neck slick with sweat. Minato hauls him to his feet anyway. “Jeez, have mercy!”  

“No man left behind,” Minato deadpans, before turning and breaking into a jog.

“Shit, you say the sweetest things, bro!” Junpei says, catching up. 

“Yeah, well,” Minato says. “I bought protein for this.” 

He puts his headphones in and drowns Junpei’s reply out. Perfect. 

*

A week later, Akihiko’s headphones die.

“Oh my god,” Shinji says, “They lived that fuckin’ long? Aren’t those, like, the ones you get in box? The default shit?”

“I don’t remember,” Akihiko says defensively, “These worked just fine!” 

“Jesus, these are a museum exhibit, Aki,” Shinji says, picking them up and dangling them in the air with a mild look of horror. When Akihiko makes a swipe to grab them back, Shinji yanks them up out of his reach. 

“Fuck, being six foot two never gets sweeter than this,” he says, holding the things just out of Akihiko’s reach and smirking. Akihiko snarls. 

“I hate you.” 

“Feeling’s mutual, loser,” Shinji says. “Come on, we’re getting you a new pair. Grab your coat, get the dog, family day out, let’s go.”

Akihiko thinks about protesting. He thinks for a whole minute.

Then he goes and gets his coat. 

*

When he rounds the corner into Junes’ electronics section and sees Hot Protein Guy standing on a stepladder to retrieve a set of speakers for a teenage girl, Akihiko freezes. Hot Protein Guy’s uniform is unfairly flattering and Akihiko has thought this ever since that first time he dropped by the health food store. The teenage girl seems to be checking him out whilst his back is turned. Akihiko wishes he could blame her, but stronger men than him would fail. 

He feels a hand under his jaw and turns to look at Shinj, who’s smirking again. 

“Catching flies ain’t a good look, buddy,” Shinji says, and closes Akihiko’s mouth for him. He doesn’t seem surprised that Hot Protein Guy is around, and Akihiko turns to him with a growing understanding. 

“You traitor,” Akihiko says, “You knew he worked here!”

“I took an educated guess,” Shinji says, “And then asked Ken, who asked Yukari, because Yukari knows everyone. You’re always telling me not to waste my brain, Aki.” 

Akihiko settles for his best death glare, the one that has opponents wilting in the ring. Shinji just laughs.

“Don’t try it,” Shinji says, “I’m immune. Overexposure. See. Still using my brain. Look, he’s done with that girl. Let’s go talk to him.”

Akihiko opens his mouth to say - what, exactly? No? Yes? Yes please? But Shinji is already heading towards Hot Protein Guy, shoulders thrown back for once, boot heels clacking on the tiles, and Akihiko swears under his breath and follows. 

“Hey!” Shinji says, and at least one family herd their small children out of his way as he passes them. “Sorry, can I bother you for a sec?”

“I am being paid to be here,” Hot Protein Guy says, turning in response to Shinji’s voice, “So yeah, I guess.” He glances over Shinji’s shoulder disinterestedly and sees Akihiko, who wishes he hadn’t worn an old gym shirt to head out. Fucking Shinji. That bastard was living on borrowed time. 

“My buddy Akihiko here,” Shinji says, clapping Akihiko on the back. “Great guy, good with kids, good with pets -”

“Shinji,” Akihiko says, face heating up under the weight of Hot Protein Guy’s eyes. 

“But prehistoric tech,” Shinji finishes smoothly, “His headphones died today instead of last century like they should’ve. You got any recs? ” 

“Hey,” Hot Protein Guy says suddenly, as though Shinji hasn’t even spoken. “Are you - do you work at the health food store?” 

His eyes are laser-bright and focused on Akihiko, and Akihiko feels the flare of it under his skin. 

“Yeah,” Akihiko says, “Hey, how’s your regime going? First week is rough.” Talking shop is safe. Akihiko knows how to do that. This is going to be fine. He’s going to get through this, and it will make him stronger, and then he’s going to bury Shinji in someone else’s backyard and let them take the blame. 

“I could use some help, actually,” Hot Protein Guy says. “My name’s Minato.” He tilts his head, a little birdlike, waiting for Akihiko to reply. The line of his jaw is fucking incredible. 

“Yeah,” Akihiko replies, a little faint. “It says on your name tag.” He gestures to Minato’s chest. 

Fuck. That was stupid. Why’d he -

And then something incredible happens: Minato smiles. It’s small and uncertain and lights up his eyes. Akihiko’s lungs strain against a sudden intake of breath. 

“So,” Minato says. 

“Sure,” Akihiko cuts in. “What do you need?”

He is so, so fucked. 

*

The bones of Minato’s wrists are careful and delicate and Akihiko is fascinated by them. He realises that watching Minato’s hands wrapped around a milkshake might look weird, so he looks up at Minato’s face instead; or at least he tries, but his gaze gets hooked on the wing of Minato’s collarbone, half-visible thanks to the cut of his work shirt. Akihiko swallows, and realises they’ve been sat in silence way too long. 

When he glances up though, Minato doesn’t seem to mind. He’s watching Akihiko watch him quietly, peaceably, drinking his milkshake. It’s soothing. Akihiko wonders when Minato’s break ends. He doesn’t ask. 

“So,” Akihiko goes, “You took up running on a dare? Shit like that’s serious, you can’t just - you need a whole new setup for that - what vitamins are you even taking -” and Minato groans, but he’s laughing. The weight of new headphones - obscenely glossy, obscenely expensive - hang around Akihiko’s neck like an anchor.  

“Do you feel like we’ve met before?” Minato says, suddenly. Akihiko looks up. Minato’s eyes are serious. He’s frowning a little. 

“Yeah,” Akihiko says, struggling to put it into words, the feeling in his chest. “We haven’t, but yeah. Weird, huh?”

“Weird isn’t bad,” Minato says thoughtfully. “It’s not bad at all.

*

He kisses Minato, and Minato almost laughs at it: Akihiko’s lips are chapped, and they catch against his in a way that is oddly grounding. Akihiko’s gripping his arm so hard later Minato will find tiny half-crescent marks from his nails, and it’s not enough to mask the tremor that wracks through him, through them both, that is transmuted from one to the other like sharing air. Akihiko, Minato tells himself later, runs hot like a furnace: it only makes sense that Minato is burning up. 

“So, uh,” Akihiko says, in between kisses, “I drink coffee.”

“Really?” Minato says, pulling away, surprised. He’s not sure what the nutritional content of coffee is, but he suspects it’s lacking. 

“No,” he admits, going red, “But Shinji told me to say I did so you’d -” He clamps his mouth shut. The flush is burning down his neck now. Minato watches him silently for a moment, cataloguing. The thought rises unbidden:  _ this would all be so much easier if you didn’t care.  _

He kisses Akihiko again instead, kisses and kisses him until he’s pliant and gasping against the front door of Minato’s flat, and when Minato unlocks the front door, his hand isn’t shaking around the keys; when he takes Akihiko’s wrist and feels the pulse thrumming underneath the skin there, he says, “Good job I didn’t buy any coffee this week then,” and his voice isn’t shaking around the words; when he finally, finally pushes Akihiko down onto his bed, he wraps one hand around Akihiko’s wrist and one around Akihiko’s hip, and Minato tells himself he isn’t shaking at all. 

*

In the morning, Akihiko wakes up briefly to find Minato half-lying on him, a molten weight of skin and breath. Akihiko doesn’t try and fight him off; Akihiko just goes back to sleep. This in itself is something that feels like something bigger. 

He wakes up later to find the room empty, although it’s 5a.m. and who gets up at 5a.m. apart from Akihiko? He sits up just as Minato returns. He’s wearing Akihiko’s boxers and talking into his phone.

“I don’t know, Junpei,” Minato says blandly, “No. No. No. I don’t care,” and hangs up. He smiles at Akihiko again, that same hesitant half-smile. 

“I have this thing I want,” Minato begins and Akihiko says, “Yeah, okay.”

Minato raises his eyebrows.

“I haven’t even said what it is.”

“Your track record for good ideas,” Akihiko replies, “is pretty stellar so far,” and Minato looks away. He seems pleased. 

“No, I mean,” and Minato grabs his headphones from the side-table, “I have this thing I want you to listen to. It’s good. Here.”

Akihiko takes the headphones from Minato without looking away from Minato’s face.

“Sure,” he says. “What is it?”

“Trust me,” Minato replies. His eyes are very blue. 

Akihiko listens. Akihiko does. 


End file.
